She didn't answer. The silence echoed between the trees in the moss-covered glade. The sun rose higher and burned brighter.
He touched her again, stroking her back whether she wanted his touch or not this time.
He clenched his teeth. "Amorica, you're my wife. Why won't you give in to your own hunger and passion?"
He rose up on an elbow. "Tell me, Amorica. I want to understand.
You're flesh and blood, and you're very much a woman. You're doing your best to deny me in every way save telling me to stop."
"I didn't deny you anything," she said.
"You did, and you know it."
She was silent again then burst out. "I don't owe you anything. You take what you want. There is nothing else that should be yours. You're a--" She broke off.
He caught hold of her shoulder and rolled her around once again. He met her eyes, those green eyes that were brilliant with tears that she would die before she shed.
"I'm a what, Amorica," he demanded harshly.
She shook her head.
"Answer me. No? All right. I'll answer for you. I'm a smuggler. Well, my dear Mrs. Andrews, you're one too. You're presence on the beach tonight made it abundantly clear that my wife could be involved in the same nefarious schemes. You might well be subject to the same punishment."
She stared at him. But then her lashes fell over her eyes. "I would take my chances with the patrols." She whispered vehemently.
"Bloody hell, Amorica," he said quietly. "Fine, have it your way. Like it or not, you will go to Newgate and hang with us if we are caught." Her eyes rose to his. "I would turn you in before I hung beside you." He traced a path across her neck. "I don't know, Amorica. You will think differently when you see the handbills seeking out the woman with the ebony hair, placed beside those seeking me. I wonder what bounty they will put on your head. Would you surrender to me or the hangman's noose?"
"I will surrender to no one."